


sometimes there’s a danger (of choking on the parts)

by nebulousviolet



Series: all your moving parts [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Multi, andrew and renee friendship ftw!!, kinda angsty kinda soft, lowercase abuse as per the norm, oof a series, renee finally cracks a lil, slight mental breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulousviolet/pseuds/nebulousviolet
Summary: “andrew,” she says calmly. “i need you to pick me up.”





	sometimes there’s a danger (of choking on the parts)

**Author's Note:**

> title and series name from ‘moving parts’ by trixie mattel. i associate her music a lot with renee, this song especially lol.

it’s six thirty am, and the ihop is still relatively empty. good. renee doesn’t know which state she’s in, but that’s easily remedied; all she needs to do is check her plane ticket. hopefully the pancakes here are better than the ones at home.

wait. plane ticket. _fuck_.

she orders an orange juice, and fishes for her phone in her bag. the gps tells her she’s in atlanta, georgia, not too far from andrew and neil’s place. slowly, it begins to come back to her; the member of her former gang smiling menacingly at her from across the street, the whispers of _natalie_ as she walked into the city centre, coming home from work and buying a seat on the first flight she saw. allison won’t know she’s gone, thank god - she’s still in new york, crushing the dreams of various young models and recovering from fashion week. she’s glad that her girlfriend is safe, but renee’s still deeply disturbed. it’s been years since she last felt the itch for her knives, but it feels as fresh as anything. even thoughts of christ cannot help her. she picks up the phone again. he picks up, first ring.  
“andrew,” she says calmly. “i need you to pick me up.”  
he asks for the address, and she gives him it, heart hammering in her chest. this isn’t what renee does, this isn’t who renee is. except she’s here, isn’t she? but she’s meant to be the stable one, the serene one, the good one. the one who gives without taking. her head swims. she’s not natalie, she refuses to be, but she isn’t renee either. she feels like she’s going to puke.

andrew pulls up outside, and she tips the server, because her own impending mental breakdown is no excuse to be an asshole. she opens the passenger door to the black maserati, is reassured by andrew’s blank expression, feels herself relax a little as they speed away. they can’t touch her. nobody can.   
“what the fuck, renee?” he says at last, when traffic forces him to slow down. despite the question, his voice is monotone and non-judgemental, a soothing balm to her nerves. part of her knows he won’t be pissed if she doesn’t answer, but she feels like she owes him a brief explanation at least.  
“my old gang,” she says simply, and he exhales, sharp and loud. something in his features tenses, and renee’s proud that she can pick that out, then sorry that she caused it. “i-i couldn’t. nobody else really understands.”  
her words are rushed nonsense, yet he seems to accept it. of course he does - he’s in love with neil josten, for god’s sake. speaking of god; she needs to go to a church. she needs to repent. but also-  
“don’t tell allison.”  
he looks at her with disinterest. “as if i’d want to speak to her anyway.”

andrew parks outside a high-end apartment block, and she recognises it as the one him and neil share. it looks so out of place; maybe that’s why they chose it. when he lets her in, the place is empty.  
“morning run,” he says, accounting for his partner’s absence, and renee nods. andrew goes straight to the refrigerator, and pulls out a gallon of chocolate milk. “want some?”  
“i’m good,” renee answers, shaking her head. there’s a buzzing in her veins still, but she thinks it’s because of the sleep deprivation. “do you have coffee?”  
“caffeine is a drug,” he informs her, but starts the machine and adds one creamer, one sugar; just the way she likes it. renee doesn’t comment on the subtle show of affection; if she did he’d just blame his eidetic memory. for andrew, this is the equivalent of a body hug. “you should talk to bee.”

it’s crazy that renee hasn’t been to therapy yet. andrew’s said it to her face, neil has heavily implied it - the dirty hypocrite - and stephanie has gently suggested that she make use of a psychologist. something about it, though, makes it feel like she’s failed somehow. that’s completely untrue and hypocritical of her (god knows she’s tried to drill this point into neil’s thick skull an infinite amount of times), but it’s a feeling she cannot help. god saved her, her faith healed her, and yet she struggles with something stupid like this? an ashamed part of her thinks it’s weakness of belief. a more ashamed part knows that it’s the one thing even she cannot fix alone. her head spins, and she feels dizzy, and suddenly a hand grabs her wrist.  
“renee,” andrew growls, but there’s fear in his eyes, and she put that there. she’s selfish, so fucking _selfish_. what will she do if allison finds out? this will destroy her. “snap out of it.”  
“i can’t breathe,” she gasps, and he shakes his head.  
“you can,” he tells her, and she forces himself to believe him. in, out, in, out, over and over, _amen_. her lungs ache, but she no longer feels like she’s choking. this is horrible. was it this bad when she first left natalie to rot? it can’t have been. surely she would’ve remembered.

he sits her in front of the tv, and she drinks her coffee and watches project runway reruns until she feels tired. andrew doesn’t say anything when he head begins to droop, and she falls into a deep, dreamless sleep to the sounds of santino rice bitching about fabric.

*

“she’s even worse than you,” is the first thing renee hears as she slowly comes back into consciousness. someone has draped a blanket over her shoulders, and she resists the urge to kick it off. eavesdropping is bad, but she doesn’t want to have to deal with the reality of what she’s done yet. feigning sleep is hardly the worst sin in the world, and she needs to go to church anyway. “at least you admit you have a problem.”  
“it’s often a forced confession,” neil mutters. “but you have a point. do you think allison has any idea?”  
“she specifically asked me not to tell her, so no,” andrew replies, the closest to a snort she’s ever heard him get to. “maybe that’s why she’s finally cracked. must be hard to date someone that bland.”  
“that’s not fair,” neil says quietly. “and you know it’s not. everyone is different. even we didn’t think it’d happen, not really.”  
renee decides that she’s heard enough, and finally opens her eyes and stretches. she should call allison. no; church first, then allison. then the flight back to sacramento, as soon as possible. she’s being utterly selfish, doing this. best to pretend it never happened.

“thank you for letting me stay,” she tells andrew, who has padded over with all the stealth and purpose of a cat. he looks at her, unimpressed.  
“you shouldn’t leave,” he says. “you know that you’ll have to deal with this eventually.”  
“yes,” she nods. “and i will, i swear to you. it’s just...right now, i can’t.”  
“tell allison,” neil says, also appearing from nowhere. “it’ll be harder for both of you if you don’t.”  
“i will,” she says. “have to go.”

neil drops her off at the airport, and hugs her goodbye. that’s a lot, for him. “i’m sorry,” he says, as he pulls away, and she knows he means it. she knows that he wants her to go through this about as much as she does. she smiles; soft, sad. “text us when you land. you know andrew freaks out.”  
“i will,” she promises. “goodbye, neil.”

when her flight lands back in california, the first thing she does is call allison.  
“hey,” she says, when it goes to voicemail. “it’s me. call me back when you can.”

**Author's Note:**

> give me comments or you’ll never get the high quality angst yall deserve xo


End file.
